Curtis Grant and the Philosopher's Stone
by zeldabey
Summary: Curtis Grant, a muggle-born, is about to start his first year at Hogwarts. However, he already has misgivings about the world he's about to enter, and does not know the challenges that lie ahead in his first year. Future iterations will be rated Teen.
1. Protective Parents

"Platform nine and three quarters!" Mrs Grant exclaimed. "What sort of stupidity is this?"

"It's not stupid," Curtis insisted. Curtis was a fairly short and thin boy, with short brown hair and glasses. "We're the stupid ones mum, we're the ignorant ones. Don't forget that."

Mr Grant piped in. "Sorry Curtis, but I think it's ignorant to give non-magical folk such as ourselves a ticket to this platform, with no instructions as to how to get to it. It just seems that these wizarding people don't appreciate your situation enough."

Curtis had little argument to this, but he was determined to convince his parents that he was being looked out for in the wizarding world. They were highly skeptical after their experience in Diagon Alley, and were worried about the treatment their son would receive, and whether 'this Dumbledore' as they called the headmaster, was competent enough to look after the people with non-magical backgrounds.

"You saw that Weasley bloke mum, dad." Curtis looked at them both. "He told us he has 4 children at Hogwarts. I'm sure they're the type of people that will look out for me."

Mr and Mrs Grant looked at each other. Curtis knew he has said the right thing. They'd taken a real liking to Arthur Weasley, who they had met in Diagon Alley.

In the end, Mrs Grant smiled. "Ok, your father and I will stop worrying about you, but only once we find this platform nine and three quarters. If we just head over to platform nine, I'm sure we'll see some odd types hanging around. Hopefully."

The family marched over between platform 9 and 10. They looked around, and noticed that Curtis, who was pushing a trolley with an owl that the family had bought to keep in touch on it, was definitely the oddest person around. Curtis saw the look of panic on his parents' face and knew to speak up quickly again.

"We're 20 minutes early! Don't worry about it yet. Look, if we can't find this platform in time, we'll just send an owl to Hogwarts. I'm pretty sure that the owl will find it."

Mr Grant laughed. "Spoken like a true wizard son. I think you've been reading your books enough!"

The atmosphere improved between the family, everyone seemed satisfied with the solution of sending an owl to Hogwarts. The atmosphere improved even more when Mrs Grant saw a familiar face. Ginger haired, short, and a little bit big around the waste, she was instantly recognizable.

"Molly!" Mrs Grant called.

Mrs Weasley turned and smiled. Curtis remembered how the two mothers had really bonded at Diagon Alley.

"Mrs Grant, pleased to see you here, me and Arthur were worried that you wouldn't find the way to the platform! But it seems that muggle-borns always find it somehow!"

"Well it's just logical isn't it," Mrs Grant said, suggesting that she had not been in any panic about the location of the platform at all. "Platform nine and three quarters, I mean, obviously between 9 and 10. Even a muggle such as myself can figure out such a thing!"

"Exactly! I see your boy hasn't gone through yet. Just building up the confidence to go through the pillar I suppose. Perfectly normal in your first year dear." Mrs Weasley smiled at Curtis, whilst Mrs Grant looked unnerved by Mrs Weasley saying "through the pillar".

"I suppose," Mrs Grant said, looking at her son for support, "that he'd like to watch your kids go through first, just to build up his confidence."

"Yes, definitely," Curtis interjected, to the delight of his mother. "Going through pillars is not a normal thing in the muggle world Mrs Weasley."

Mrs Weasley chucked. "It's not a normal thing in the wizarding world dear either. Once a year really. Ahh, here come the kids."

Mr Weasley, along with 5 red headed children walked up to Mrs Weasley. Curtis thought he had counted wrong at first, but then decided that maybe the daughter or the shortest boy probably wasn't old enough to go to Hogwarts. Actually, now that he racked his brains, he was sure that Mr Weasley had stipulated that 4 boys would be going to Hogwarts this year, so the daughter was definitely going to be a left behind.

"Ahh, the Grants, pleased to see you again." Mr Weasley held his hand out to Mr Grant, Mrs Grant, and Curtis in turn and they each shook it. "Joe and Sandra," (these were Curtis' parents' names) "I was really hoping to see you actually. Molly told me that you seemed quite anxious about allowing your son into this world. I was thinking that some tea and a chat at our house may be just what you need. Molly and I can tell you everything that you could possibly want to know, I imagine."

Mr and Mrs Grant were very quick to accept the offer. The Weasley parents were two people who they felt they could trust, and who better than them to brief them on what their son was getting himself into. Curtis was certainly happy knowing that he may avoid a huge amount of owls this way.

"We can't afford to stand around any longer Arthur," Mrs Weasley stated after Mr Weasley asked why Muggles put stamps on their post. "Kids, go through the barrier. Percy first please!"

And the tallest of the boys stood forward and got ready to sprint through the barrier with his trolley. He was just about to go and –

"Excuse me" a little voice called.

Everyone turned around from looking at Percy to looking at this young boy. He had messy, black hair, and glasses covering his very green eyes.

Mrs Weasley explained the running through the barrier thing to this boy as well, and Curtis couldn't help but think that this boy would be a very obvious acquaintance for him, at least for now, as they were united in their confusion.

The boys then began running one by one through the barrier. Curtis thought it looked simple enough, but was still incredibly worried he'd be the one to hesitate and not make it through. Soon enough all of the boys, including the non-Weasley one, had ran through the barrier. Curtis positioned himself, pointing his trolley towards the pillar…his heart started beating very fast. Then he finally plucked up the courage and started briskly walking. Soon, he had increased to jogging, and then running. The barrier lay there in front of him; he got ready for the pain he was about to experience. He braced himself, continued running. Laughter. "Better stop" he thought.

Suddenly he realized that he had gone through the barrier, and that there were a number of wizards laughing at how he had continued running in a very awkward position, even once he had gone through. But Curtis didn't care about this anymore, he was just pleased to be through, and to see the train labeled "Hogwarts Express" sitting neatly in front of him.

He turned to see his mum and dad had followed him through.

"Bye mum. Bye dad." he said to them.

His mum looked at him, teary eyed, and hugged Curtis. She then said "Don't worry about me while you're at school. You're about to do something me and your dad can only dream of doing. Just enjoy it, work hard, and succeed."

Curtis smirked at his mum, and then quickly dropped to a more somber face. "Mum, you have the invitation to ask anything you like to Mr and Mrs Weasley. I wasn't worried about you anyway." He resumed the smirk.

His dad laughed, his mum forced a teary smile, and they waved goodbye as Curtis boarded the Hogwarts Express.


	2. Annoying People

Curtis Grant was definitely not a social creature. He'd always been very shy around new people, and being in a completely different world to the one he'd been brought up in added to this shyness. So his first mission was to find an empty compartment on the train. It didn't take him long; he was one of the first to board. He noted that most people seemed to be in the habit of boarding at exactly 10:59 for an 11:00 train, something not normal in the "muggle" world.

And soon enough, they were off. He didn't have a clue where Hogwarts was, but he didn't care either, he just knew that it was a very long train ride. He found himself in mixed feelings, on one hand, he wanted to stay alone so he wouldn't have to talk to people, on the other hand, that would be very boring. He decided to leave it to lady luck, rather than actively try and avoid people joining him. Soon enough, a boy who looked the same age as him, came in, looking a little bit put-out.

"Sorry," he said. "Most others are full, or have groups of older people."

"Think nothing of it," Curtis said, noting that this boy looked even more nervous than him. "Sit down!"

The boy sat down. Curtis expected him to introduce himself, but it seemed he would get no such niceties from this boy. In the end, he decided that it was only going to be him to break this silence.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Neville Longbottom," was the response.

There was a brief silence. Curtis decided that he should introduce himself, despite not being asked.

"I'm Curtis Grant. Just to warn you, I'm new to this whole magic business, so sorry if I don't get what you're saying all the time."

Neville looked at Curtis, and almost smiled. "Don't worry about it. You can't be less magical than me. I needed to be dropped out of a window to finally bring out my magic. I expect you've brought out magic more often than that."

Curtis didn't need to think long about this. He had had many magical accidents while he was young. Of course, he didn't attribute these to magic until he got his letter, but that's how he convinced his parents that it wasn't all a con, because they'd noticed the odd things he'd done as a child as well. Suddenly Curtis felt like less of a misfit.

"Are your parents magical?" Curtis asked inquisitively.

It was definitely the wrong thing to say. There was a long silence before Neville finally answered.

"Yes."

The two didn't speak for another couple of minutes then, until a bushy-haired girl entered the room. She looked at both of them for a moment, before suddenly speaking out.

"How are you two then?"

Curtis and Neville looked at each other; it was a very odd way to start a conversation with a stranger. But Curtis preferred this to the way Neville started the conversation.

"Uhh yeah, fine thank you," he responded.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl piped up without prompt. "Who are you?"

"Curtis Grant, and this here is Neville Longbottom."

Curtis decided it was best to introduce Neville himself, rather than wait hours for Neville to say anything.

"Does he speak?" Hermione said.

Neville started to blush, looking at the floor rather than Hermione. Curtis was quite annoyed with this Hermione girl now; he thought that was a rather insensitive thing to say.

"He's just nervous, that's all." Curtis said.

Much to his annoyance, Hermione decided to take a seat opposite Curtis.

"Why's he nervous, does he think he's forgotten something?" Hermione said.

Neville suddenly jumped out of his seat, making both Hermione and Curtis jump as well.

"Where's Trevor!" he shouted.

"Trevor?" Hermione said.

"My toad!"

"When did you last have him?"

"I brought him onto the train, and then I don't know."

"Well let's go and look for him then. You," she pointed at Curtis, "stay here. We don't want to lose our seats now do we?" Curtis couldn't believe the authority coming from her voice. She looked like an 11 year old, but suddenly ridiculous thoughts went through his mind about her being a teacher.

The pair left, and then Curtis gazed out of the window into the beautiful daylight, or was it beautiful sunset, he suddenly thought to himself. Then he realized that he had fallen asleep for a few hours. He noticed that he was still in an empty compartment, and hoped that it had been empty for the duration of his sleep. He reasoned that it hadn't though, as Hermione came in mere minutes after he woke up.

"Still here then? I'd advise you change into your robes soon, we'll be getting there shortly."

She left before Curtis could ask about Neville's toad. Curtis was starting to get really irritated with Hermione, she seemed much too arrogant. However, he decided it was best to heed her advice, and change into his robes. Soon after, a voice echoed around the room saying that they'd be arriving in 5 minutes and to leave their luggage on the train.

Hermione re-entered the room again. She seemed to be hopping between compartments all the time, trying to become everyone's best friends, and becoming, Curtis imagined, nobody's best friend.

"You seem lonely," she said. "Let's talk for 5 minutes. You come from the muggle world don't you? I'm the same."

Shock planted itself on Curtis' face. Hermione smiled.

"I have read a few books, so I may seem at home in this world, but I'm not. I haven't found out much about what it's like to be a student at Hogwarts, so I have no idea what to expect. We are in the same boat. I've found out a bit about the Hogwarts houses though."

"Hogwarts has houses?" Curtis said, now curious.

"Oh yes, didn't you know? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. We're sorted into these houses once we get to Hogwarts. You're sorted based on your traits."

"Our traits?"

Curtis sat there wondering what sort of traits he had. He had always been intelligent, but that's about as far as he could think, so he had to hope for a house based on that.

"Gryffindors are notable for their bravery" Hermione said.

"Nope, that's not for me" he thought out loud.

"Really? Gryffindor sounds the best to me."

"Maybe it's the best, but if there's one thing I'm not, it's brave." Curtis was starting to open himself up a bit more to Hermione now she had dropped the arrogance a bit.

"Well maybe Hufflepuff would suit you? Hard work, and loyalty."

"Hmm…" Curtis said. Hufflepuff seemed like a soft option to him.

"In Ravenclaw, intelligence is valued the most."

Curtis' eyes lit up. There was only one house for him now, so much so, that he didn't even listen to what Hermione said about Slytherin, although he noted the disapproval on her face whilst saying the house's name.

"So what house suits you?" She asked him.

"Ravenclaw."

"Hmm yes, it's not a bad option is it? I'd prefer that to Slytherin definitely."

The train came to a screeching halt. Hermione and Curtis got off the train together. A giant of a man was shouting.

"Firs' years! Firs' years! Firs' years! Follow me."

Curtis and Hermione did just that. On their way, they got their first view of Hogwarts. It was a spectacular castle, with many towers coming off it. Curtis couldn't think of anything better than living there for 10 months.

The giant led them to a great mass of water, with a lot of little boats sitting near the shore.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he called out.

Hermione led Curtis to a boat with two people who Curtis recognized to be the youngest Weasley and the other boy who had went through the barrier to the platform at the same time as he did. They didn't talk; instead, there was silence, as the boats sailed forwards. The boats took them to what seemed to be underneath the castle, and they stopped at some sort of underground harbour. Here they got out of the boats (the giant found and returned Neville's toad here), and the giant led them to the castle door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

And then he knocked on the door three times.


	3. Sorting

A tall black-haired witch greeted their arrival, wearing emerald green robes. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and then entered the school, prompting the other first years to follow. When Curtis entered the first room, he was immediately shocked by the massiveness of it. However, he decided that after finding out about magic, he should stop getting shocked so easily now!

Professor McGonagall took them to just outside a door where Curtis assumed everyone was, due to the noise coming from it. She then directed the first years to a room just by that door. They squeezed in, and then the Professor explained about houses, dormitories, common rooms, and housepoints. Curtis did not like the sound of it; it could be a disaster if he was in a house with nobody that he would want to be a friend with. He was very picky with friends, he was easily annoyed.

Professor McGonagall led them into the room where everyone was. It was huge, and looked like it had no ceiling, yet it was clearly inside judging by the atmosphere. Everyone first looked at the entering first years, and then the hat that sat at the front of the hall on a three-legged stool.

Suddenly it burst into a song (AN: which you can read in the book if you're that desperate!) about the different houses at Hogwarts. Curtis was reassured in his mind that Ravenclaw was the house for him. Slytherin, on the other hand, sounded (and looked, judging by their table in the hall) somewhat more unfriendly.

Professor McGonagall then began calling out names to be sorted. "Abbott, Hannah" was the first one, but it wasn't long before it got to a familiar name.

"Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall called.

Hermione went to the front and put the hat on her head. Curtis predicted that if Gryffindor was where she wanted to be, then Gryffindor was where she would be. He was right.

"GRYFFINDOR!" proclaimed the hat.

Knowing his alphabet well, Curtis realized who was next.

"Grant, Curtis!"

Curtis scuttled to the front of the hall and sat on the stool. He was very nervous, and almost missed his head as he placed the hat on. The hat sank to cover his eyes.

"You're fairly straight forward" the hat muttered into his ear. "I think you'll be satisfied that my decision is RAVENCLAW!"

The last word was called to the whole hall. Curtis was delighted; he had got what he wanted. The Ravenclaw table clapped as he walked over there and sat down next to the boy who was called up to the hat by the name Anthony Goldstein.

A girl from across the table shook his hand and said "Penelope Clearwater, Ravenclaw prefect. Congratulations!"

Curtis just nodded his head in reply, he wasn't really sure what to make of this girl; she was clearly much older than him, and much too pompous for his liking. But maybe he was just being over-critical.

The sorting carried on. Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor, much to Curtis' surprise. Neville hadn't struck him as someone particularly brave and Curtis had guessed he'd be a Hufflepuff.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called out.

And there was silence, and mutterings of "Potter?" all around the hall. Even Curtis had read the name Harry Potter somewhere, in one of the books he'd flicked through at Flourish and Blotts. It turned out Harry Potter was the boy from the train station. Quiet, confused, and polite, it was hard for Curtis to think about him as someone famous, but clearly he was. He was sorted into Gryffindor like it seemed everyone Curtis had met was.

Near the end, the name Weasley was called (first name Ronald). Curtis had already noticed the Weasley contingent sitting on the Gryffindor table so was unsurprised when Ronald joined them. And after "Zabini, Blaise" (a Slytherin), that was that. Sorting over.

Now the odd and old looking man from the teacher's table at the front, who had long silvery hair and a beard of the same colour, stood up. He announced "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!", then said thank you and sat down. Immediately Curtis warmed to this clearly eccentric character, and very much hoped that this was Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts.

Curtis turned to look back at their own table and couldn't believe the feast that sat on it. It was essentially a roast dinner, but enough seemingly for everyone to have two roast dinners each. The mint humbugs were slightly odd, but Curtis was quick to ram some into the pockets of his robes, he knew he'd want them later. He then tucked into the food. He'd never quite eaten as much food in his life, so wanted to make up for lost time.

Once everyone had finished, the desserts quickly replaced the main courses on the plates.

"Why weren't the mint humbugs with the desserts?" Anthony Goldstein said. "I fancy one now!"

Curtis removed one from his pocket and wordlessly placed it on the table in front of Anthony. Anthony gave an odd look, and muttered "Thanks." Curtis was feeling really uncomfortable and out of place at the Ravenclaw table right now, and was thankful when Penelope Clearwater spoke across to him.

"Your name is Curtis right?" she said.

"Yep"

"Are you pleased to be in Ravenclaw?"

This was a question he no longer had the answer to. In truth, right now, he'd have rather have been in Gryffindor, where at least he already had acquaintances. On the other hand, he felt that he might make truer long-term friends in the end in Ravenclaw.

"Absolutely. Intelligence is something I've always greatly valued. There weren't enough intelligent people at my muggle school, so I hope there are more here."

Penelope smiled. "You're in the right place then, in Ravenclaw. Rowena Ravenclaw always said 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'. You're muggle-born then are you?"

"Yes." Curtis wondered whether she might have a problem with that.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm the same! You think that you don't stand a chance compared to all the people who have been brought up in magical families but you'll find that you catch up easily. They've never been allowed to do magic before see, you're not allowed to magic outside of Hogwarts below 17."

Curtis was shocked at the sheer volume of muggle-born students there were. He thought there might have been only a few, but it seemed like they were everywhere. He simply said "Thank you" across the table, feeling much more content now. Once the puddings were over, the eccentric man on the staff table stood up again, and the hall silenced.

Penelope whispered "That's Professor Dumbledore."

This confirmed Curtis' suspicions, and he was quite pleased that this man was the headmaster. He seemed to have a personality, something most muggle headteachers lack. He also radiated power, control, and respectability. Curtis wasn't quite sure what it was, but there was something about him which made him think that he was a good wizard. He felt safer thinking that he'd be in the same castle as this man.

Professor Dumbledore's announcements were essentially telling the first-years the rules of the school. Don't go in the forest in the grounds. Don't use magic in the corridors between classes. Don't go in the third floor right corridor unless you wish to die a terrible death. The last one caused a few mutterings.

"A terrible death?" Anthony Goldstein said.

"Oh who knows, it's Dumbledore" a dark-haired girl said a few seats down. "If he says we shouldn't do it, we probably shouldn't."

A boy sorted by the name Michael Corner nodded in agreement.

Dumbledore then instructed everyone to sing the school song to their favourite tune. Curtis laughed, he knew that what he was about to hear would be a massacre to his ears, with everyone singing different tunes. The surprising thing was that it wasn't. It actually sounded good.

Curtis decided to speak to Anthony while everyone was singing. "How does this sound so good, everyone singing different tunes?"

Anthony just shrugged his shoulders.

"Bah, I guess anything is possible at Hogwarts." Curtis said, more to himself than Anthony.

Once everyone had finished, Professor Dumbledore dismissed them to their common rooms for bed. Curtis was glad, he certainly needed bed, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the prospect of lessons in magic the following day.

Penelope and a few other Ravenclaws stood up and told everyone else to follow to the common room. Curtis was overwhelmed by the size of Hogwarts and felt that he'd spend a great deal of his time just exploring the place. After going up a few (moving) staircases, the prefects led everyone to a spiral staircase, which they all climbed up. When they got to the top, they faced a wooden door with a bronze knocker the shape of an eagle on it. Penelope knocked once, and the eagle spoke.

"What should you fear more, a dragon or a dementor, and why?"

Penelope turned to the crowd. "To get into Ravenclaw common room, you have to answer the eagle's question. Now I know some of you won't know what a dementor is, but don't worry, the eagle will ask only questions that are reasonable to ask given the knowledge you have. It's very smart like that. If you can't give a satisfactory answer to the eagle, then you will have to wait for another Ravenclaw to come along who can."

This caused a muttering through the first-years in the crowd. Curtis was unperturbed by this though, he felt he could probably guess at the right answer, as long as he had the right knowledge base to begin with. Actually, Curtis really quite liked the idea of being asked questions such as this to get into the common room, he knew that he'd be doing it for fun tomorrow when he got the chance.

Penelope turned around and answered the eagle. "A dementor, for surely the most wise fear to have is a fear of fear itself."

"Sensible, but I bet you fear the dragon more really," the eagle said, and the door opened. All of the Ravenclaws filed inside.

The Ravenclaw common room was wide and circular. Arched windows and portraits of intelligent looking people lined the walls. They could not see out of the windows well now, but it appeared that there were some mountains outside of the window, probably a very nice view in the day. Blue was the dominating colour around the room, which made sense, as blue was the Ravenclaw colour, as Curtis had noted whilst in the Great Hall.

Before anyone could have a proper look around, Penelope directed the first years to their dormitories, and Curtis really couldn't see the point in not going right now. He'd rather look around the common room more when it was less crowded than it was now. Just before he left to go to the dormitory, another prefect shouted something.

"Wandering outside of the common room at night is forbidden, and punishable by huge housepoint deductions. You have been warned!"

Curtis had no intentions of wandering the castle by night anyway, it seemed like it would be far too spooky to do that. He wandered upstairs the dormitories, where everyone's luggage had managed to get to. He went to his four-poster bed (with royal blue curtains and a royal blue duvet), changed into his pyjamas, and dropped down dead on his bed.

He couldn't get the idea of doing magic out of his mind. The wand he got from Ollivander's could finally be put to use. Suddenly, he worried. Thinking of Diagon Alley, he remembered his misgivings about the wizarding world, about the people within it. Sure, they all seemed alright today, but he remembered that day in Diagon Alley well, and undoubtedly, so did his parents, who would also be in bed, thinking about this same thing probably.


	4. Diagon Alley

"So where's this Leaky Cauldron?" Mrs Grant said. "I followed the directions that we were given with our letters, why is it not here?"

"Don't panic mum…" Curtis said

Mrs Grant ignored him. "It's a hoax, I knew it. We've been had. Why were we prepared to believe in magic? Where's the cameras? Yes, yes, we look really stupid now, you can come out and make fun of us."

"DON'T PANIC!"

Mrs Grant finally looked at her son. "I'm not panicking dear. Just accepting the truth."

"You don't understand. I can see the Leaky Cauldron. You've looked straight at it several times." Curtis pointed at where the Leaky Cauldron was. "See it?"

"Don't blabber nonsense at me dear. You're being delusional, seeing hallucinations."

Mr Grant piped up. "No, no, dear," looking at his wife. "Our boy's right. Just look a little bit harder where he's pointing. Believe that it's there."

"Do you really have to look hard to see it? I mean, it's just obvious isn't it." But suddenly, Curtis realized what was going on. "Non-magical people have to look hard for it, to believe it's there, to see it. That's why none of the other people along this street can see it."

Mr and Mrs Grant did not really care about this explanation, but Curtis was pleased by it.

"YES! There it is!" Mrs Grant finally said after a few seconds. "…it's so obvious. How could I miss it?"

"Sandra. I think you and I have just had our first taste of magic," Mr Grant said.

"I sort of expected it to be more dramatic than that Joe."

"Oh I imagine it will be more dramatic once we're in." chipped in Curtis.

And the family all walked into the Leaky Cauldron together, entering the magical world for the first time.

They were underwhelmed. It was just a typical pub, although the people in it were not dressed normally, sporting cloaks. But apart from the attire, there was nothing dramatic about this place at all.

Mr Grant approached the barman. "We were wondering the way to Diagon Alley?"

The barman replied, "First time is it? Follow me, follow me, but please do come back for a drink after you've done your shopping!"

He led them out through the back door of the pub. There was a brick wall there. The family wondered what was going to happen. The barman tapped a few bricks on the wall with what looked to be his wand. A hole appeared, and eventually got bigger and bigger until they could see down the path. Down the path, there was a lot of hustle and bustle from the cloaked people, and lots and lots of shops. Curtis smiled at his mum and dad.

"Told you it would get more dramatic."

Mrs Grant let out a yell of excitement. "Let's go shopping!"

Mr Grant turned around and thanked the barman, and they all passed through the archway where the brick wall once stood. Once they did, the wall immediately returned. The family looked at all the shops. Cauldron shops, owl shops, book shops, wand shops, a bank. The family weren't sure where to start.

Mrs Grant was quick to notice something. "None of this is priced in pounds," she commented. "I think it's all priced in wizarding money."

The family looked anxiously at one another. They didn't have any wizard money, nor did they know where to get any from.

"The bank, Gringotts?" Mr Grant suggested. The bank was very well built, and looked very posh. The family were a little skeptical about entering.

"I do wish the letter had been more informative," Mrs Grant said.

And the family stood, paralyzed, outside of the bank. They were approached by a red-headed wizard, or at least they assumed he was a wizard by the cloak he was wearing.

"You look like muggles," the wizard said, scanning their clothes. They did look out of place wearing regular clothes here in the wizarding world. "And you look lost. Would you like some help?"

Mr and Mrs Grant looked at one another. "Well, if you can spare the time…" Mrs Grant said, wondering what on earth a muggle was. Curtis had already guessed though.

"Of course we can!" the wizard replied. "Molly, could you come over here please?" he called across the street. "I'm Arthur Weasley by the way," and he shook each of their hands in turn.

"Mr Weasley sir." Curtis suddenly said. "We don't know what a muggle is. Would a muggle be a non-magical person?"

"Yes, that's exactly it. It's not offensive, it's just our name for non-magical folk. You, of course, I would assume, are not a muggle."

Curtis nodded. "We're here to get my school supplies for Hogwarts."

Mr Weasley replied "I gathered. It's that time of year to see groups like you. Ahh, here's my wife, Molly, now."

Another red headed person, this time a woman, approached the group. She was short and stout, but her expression seemed to be one of perfect friendliness.

"What is it Arthur?" she said.

"This family here, well they're muggles you see, and they're buying school supplies for their son here. I thought we could help, they look a little confused."

Mrs Weasley shot what Curtis thought was a disapproving look at Mr Weasley, but then smiled at the family.

Mrs Grant had a worried look on her face now. "Only help if you can spare the time. We don't want to be a burden."

"Don't you worry," Mrs Weasley said. "I should imagine this is a daunting place for you."

"The first thing," Mr Weasley said, "is money. Do you have any wizarding money?"

"No." Mr Grant replied. "Where could we get some? Will we be able to exchange for our money?" He flashed the pound notes from his pocket.

"Exchange some money with me," Mr Weasley responded. Mrs Weasley shot him another look, which he ignored. "We're not spending much today, and we have a bit of spare change. We'll convert your money back to wizarding money for ourselves later."

"What's the exchange rate?" Mr Grant asked.

"5 pounds to the galleon. How much do you have?"

"1000 pounds"

"MERLIN'S BEARD! Are you rich?"

"No, no," Mr Grant responded, slightly offended by the question. "Just we didn't know how much money we would need, so we brought as much as we could just to make sure."

"Sensible, sensible," Mr Weasley replied. "You muggles are smart! Well, I don't have 200 galleons I'm afraid, but I do have 20, that will be enough for your supplies."

Mr Grant gave Mr Weasley 100 pounds for his 20 galleons.

"Thank you very much Arthur." Mr Grant said.

The two groups were about to part, when Mrs Weasley stepped in, seemingly having warmed to the family. "Why don't you shop with us? We don't want you to get confused again?"

"That sounds lovely to me," Mrs Grant said.

And so they did their shopping together. Curtis got a cauldron, set of phials, and brass scales first, before moving onto buying an owl, which Mr Weasley recommended for easy communication between him and his parents. They had just enough money to buy the owl and still afford the rest of his supplies. The owl was a brown one, called a "common owl". Curtis named it "Arthur", as he could not think of any other names at the time, which humoured the Weasleys.

Next was uniform. Curtis really wasn't bothered, and got the cheapest of everything from Madam Malkins' store. The two things left were the things Curtis was most excited about. The wand, and his books. First, they got his wand, from the shop called Ollivanders. Mr Weasley stated that Mr Ollivander was the best.

Curtis entered the shop. It was a strange, dark room, unlike any shop Curtis had entered in his life.

"Hello," muttered a soft voice.

Curtis spotted the shopkeeper and walked over to the counter.

"I see you're muggle-born," the shopkeeper said, looking out of the window at Curtis' parents. "I'm Mr Ollivander, in case you hadn't guessed."

Curtis was intrigued by Mr Ollivander calling him "muggle-born". Was the fact that his parents were muggles a big thing? Curtis had wondered whether he would be the only person like it, but Mr Weasley's comment about it being the right time of year to see muggle families showed that he wouldn't be the only one.

"What's your name?" Mr Ollivander asked.

"Curtis Grant"

"Ok Curtis. Well I'm going to hand you a wand now. You are to wave it, and then I will tell you if it the right one."

Curtis looked blankly at Mr Ollivander.

"But of course, you don't understand. Most muggle-borns enter my shop thinking all wands are the same. They are not. In fact, every wand is unique Curtis, and perhaps more crucially, the wand chooses the wizard. This means that we may have to try a good few before I find a wand that suits you, but it's definitely worth going through that process, as the stronger the tie of the bond between wand and wizard, the easier you will find it to channel your magic through your wand."

Curtis was impressed. This was a science, and Mr Ollivander seemed like the Einstein of his field.

"Right then, let's get going. I can see the enthusiasm in your eyes! Which is your wand arm?"

Curtis felt foolish for a couple of seconds. He was right-handed for most things, but left-handed in some, and didn't want to make a critical error before he even got to Hogwarts. But he realized in his head that he would be more comfortable with the wand in his right hand.

"This one" he said, holding out his right arm.

"Excellent," said Mr Ollivander picking up a tape measure and measuring the arm, and then every other conceivable part of the body he could measure. "Ok, here we go. I want you to take each wand I give you, and wave it. I will decide whether it is suitable or not and we will find the right wand for you."

He pulled out a box from the shelf. "11 inches, oak and dragon heartstring. Firm but brittle." Curtis accepted the wand, and was excited to have a wand in his hand for the first time. He went to give it a wave, but Ollivander snatched it off him.

"No, no, absolutely not. Take this one."

They continued in this way for a few more wands.

"Try this one out. Beech and dragon heartstring. 12 inches. Nice and swishy."

When Curtis took this wand, he immediately knew. A warmth shot up his fingers as the wand entered his hand. He was so pleased by this reaction, he forgot to wave.

"Ahh, but the smile on your face reveals all," Mr Ollivander said, smiling himself. "Still, give it a wave, we must be sure."

Curtis waved the wand, and it reacted energetically, sending sparks everywhere. He was shocked at himself, at long last, he had done something like magic, although he was sure it would be more exciting than that at Hogwarts.

"Yes, yes, splendid!" Mr Ollivander said. "You've got yourself a powerful wand there boy. Use it well!"

Curtis paid his money for his wand, delighted with his purchase, and was dismissed from the shop by Mr Ollivander. He was not greeted by a happy scene. Mr Weasley and another man with pale-blonde hair were facing off with each other, with Mrs Weasley, and Mr and Mrs Grant helplessly watching.

"Your choice of company alarms me Weasley," the blonde-haired man said. "How dare you associate yourself with these…" He looked at Mr and Mrs Grant.

"Why is my choice of company your business Malfoy?" Mr Weasley replied. "I find it somewhat better than the company you have chosen to keep in the past anyway. Still keep in contact with Bellatrix Lestrange? Visit in Azkaban?"

Malfoy shot Mr Weasley an evil look. But then he smirked instead. "I could take you to the Wizengamot for that Weasley, associating me with scum like Lestrange. The company I choose to keep consists of people such as the school governor's and the Minister of Magic himself. Now if you consider these people to be scum then I suggest you go and tell them."

Mr Weasley glared at Malfoy. Mrs Weasley tapped the nearly crying Mrs Grant on the shoulder, and they both walked into a shop away from the two men. Mr Grant continued watching, still helplessly.

Malfoy suddenly spoke up, looking at Curtis with disgust. "I assume this is the mudblood for whom you are –"

Mr Weasley had pulled his wand out of his pocket and Malfoy quickly did likewise.

"You dare…" uttered Malfoy.

Mr Weasley now spoke, anger seemingly coming out of every pore on his face. "You dare, Malfoy, to use that word. Even in front of the boy? You should go to Azkaban for saying it behind his back let alone to his face!" Mr Weasley had almost shouted that last line.

Malfoy gave Mr Weasley a hard stare…and then turned his back and left. Mr Grant looked bewildered. Curtis was left confused. Should he feel offended? He wasn't sure.

"Scum of the earth, that Malfoy," Mr Weasley said to the pair, pushing his wand back into his pocket.

"What did Malfoy say that was so bad Mr Weasley?" Curtis asked.

"Don't worry about it Curtis. It's not what you need to be worrying about on your first day in our world."

Curtis didn't worry about it either. He knew that the word 'mudblood' was what had offended Mr Weasley so much. He even had a strong guess at what it meant. No doubt mudblood was a rude way of saying "muggle-born", the term Mr Ollivander had used.

Mr Grant, who had looked like he wanted to say something for a couple of minutes, spoke now. "Arthur, are you quite sure that it's safe for my son to enter your world?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. There are plenty of muggle-borns out there, in places of high authority, who do not get persecuted at all. It's just that there are a few people out there like Lucius Malfoy who do discriminate. They are absolutely the minority."

Mr Grant looked unconvinced.

"Look, I'm going to have 4 boys at Hogwarts this year. They will all look out for your son, I promise."

There was a silence between the men as they waited for their wives. They came out of Flourish and Blotts, the book shop, where they had went while the men argued. Mrs Grant had a pile of books, the ones that were on Curtis' list. She spoke up.

"He's gone then."

Mr Weasley muttered something into his wife's ear. She looked shocked, and then looked at Curtis with great sympathy.

"Don't worry dear," she said. "Me and your mum thought it would be a nice idea to have an ice cream at Fortescue's."

And so they did. It was clear to Curtis that his parents and the Weasleys had really broken the ice whilst Curtis was inside Ollivanders. His parents were now explaining to Mr Weasley the exact function of electricity in their life, and he was listening with great interest. Mrs Weasley looked quite disinterested though, so Curtis thought that he might be able to ask her a question.

"Mrs Weasley?"

"Yes dear."

"I haven't really seen much magic yet. I was wondering what sort of things you can do with magic."

Mrs Weasley shuffled uncomfortably. Curtis knew it would be a tough question but he wanted to know. "Well dear, you can do practically anything you can imagine. There are many different branches of magic, and each gives its own opportunities. For example, my sons are very skilled…too skilled in fact, at creating magical objects that do many sort of things, such as explode when you say a certain word, that sort of thing. You can also make things explode with your wand…the world of magic is a broad world dear. You'll learn as you go through Hogwarts."

Mrs Weasley had said enough to really whet Curtis' appetite. He was eager to get learning magic as soon as possible, he wanted to be able to do all of these things.

After their ice cream, it was time for them to leave Diagon Alley.

"But I wanted to go to Flourish and Blotts" Curtis said. "I wanted to do just a bit of reading, get a bit of background."

"We'll come back." Mrs Grant said. "But now, let's not take up any more of Molly and Arthur's time. Bye!" she waved at them.

Mrs Weasley called back with a smile "See you soon!"

They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron (a witch passing by helped with the brick wall), promised the barman they would have a drink next time they came through (Mrs Grant was a bit flustered having just been offered a butterbeer). But once the Grants got into the car, all of Mrs Grant's inhibitions came out.

"Right, I've decided," she said, looking at Mr Grant. "I can't let my boy into that world. Not with people like that Malfoy around. What if they kill him dear, did you think of that? I can't be letting my boy go to Hogwarts. He can't stand up for himself. He won't know what's going on, he'll be an outcast. No!"

Curtis stared at his mother in disbelief. He opened his mouth, but his mother stopped him from speaking.

"No Curtis. Don't make me feel guilty. I'm doing this for your benefit. You saw how malicious that man was."

"Mum! Listen to me!"

Mrs Grant looked at Curtis. Curtis knew that he had one hope, one lie in his locker. He only hoped his dad wouldn't contradict it.

"That Malfoy man was only bothered by you and dad! He didn't think you had the right to be in a wizarding place. I, on the other hand, am a wizard, and he showed no sign that he didn't accept me being there."

Curtis recalled the mudblood comment, the look of hatred on Malfoy's face. In Curtis' mind, he believed that Malfoy hated him even more than he hated his parents. But he could not tell his mum this. And as his mum was inside Flourish and Blotts at the time when Malfoy spotted Curtis, she could not know.

Mrs Grant gave it a little consideration. "Is this true dear?" she finally said, to her husband. "I don't remember him showing any contempt towards Curtis, now I think about it."

Mr Grant hesitated. He was much less protective of his son, but he did not like lying to his wife. "No, it was only us he had a problem with dear. Foolish man."

Curtis' insides turned over. He felt a great rush of thankfulness towards his father, but he didn't dare express it, at least, not until his mother could not see. Mrs Grant was sitting there, deep in thought.

"Ok, I trust you two. But I'll be using Arthur to send you messages every day! Maybe 3 or 4 times. I'll expect replies each and every time. Maybe two replies to each actually, just to make sure, you can't be too safe. Maybe I should send you food as well, just in case you –"

Curtis laughed. "Thanks mum."

He laughed back then, but Curtis still thought as he lay in his Ravenclaw bed, that overall, his mum had a point. There was certainly a sinister side to the wizarding world. His encounter with Malfoy proved that. He just hoped that there was no one here at Hogwarts who shared the same beliefs as Malfoy. Curtis tossed over on his bed, and saw Anthony Goldstein coming in. Curtis pretended to be asleep, he did not fancy a conversation with Anthony right now (he wasn't sure that he ever would fancy a conversation with him). Eventually, tiredness beat excitement, and Curtis fell asleep.

**AN: A long chapter here. I hope you understood it was a flashback quickly! I thought it would be better to allow the reader to figure out it was a flashback rather than shove it in all your faces!**


	5. Introductions

Morning. Curtis was first out of bed in the room, all the other first-year boys looked to be in a deep sleep. He was quite keen on getting down to breakfast as soon as possible. He decided to get washed and dressed first, and then went down to the common room. Penelope was sitting down on one of the many blue sofas, in her pyjamas, reading a newspaper. Apart from her, it was empty.

"Oh, hello Curtis," she said, looking out from behind her newspaper. "Eager to get up?"

Inspiration struck Curtis. He wanted to feel more like he was a part of the wizarding world, and a newspaper would help that.

"Is there anyway I can get one of those papers?" Curtis asked Penelope.

"Oh absolutely, look, I've got a form to subscribe for them now. 5 knuts a day." Penelope gave Curtis the form. "Just send it off by owl, and it'll be delivered to you everyday. You can pay in advance or at the time."

"Thank you very much."

Penelope buried her head back behind the newspaper. Curtis' parents had given him a lot of wizarding money, so he could easily afford to subscribe to this newspaper. He looked at the front page of the one Penelope was holding. The paper was entitled the Daily Prophet, with the main headline "Gringotts Break-In Latest: Fudge Refuses To Interfere With Goblin Investigation".

"That posh building, broken into?" Curtis thought out loud.

"Sorry?" Penelope looked out from behind her newspaper.

"Oh, sorry, just reading the front page. Surprised that Gringotts got broken into."

"Oh, aren't we all? I don't have a vault there personally, but it's certainly made a lot of people with their life savings stored in there twitchy. I don't blame them either, the goblins don't seem to be being pragmatic about the situation. Rather covering it up in my opinion."

Curtis didn't really understand the significance of goblins at all, in fact, he was unaware that goblins existed until two minutes ago, but he didn't bother to ask her about that, she was clearly trying to read her newspaper and he just wanted to ask one more thing.

"When does breakfast start? Sorry, this is my last question."

"Don't worry about it Curtis, I'm a prefect, it's what I'm here for. Breakfast starts just about now."

"Oh, ok, thank you!"

And with that, Curtis left Ravenclaw tower and retraced his steps from yesterday back down to the Great Hall. It was rather empty, the Ravenclaw table was completely empty. There was one first-year Hufflepuff, a couple of Gryffindors, and no Slytherins. Only Dumbledore was seated at the staff table, looking like he was enjoying his food.

The food was laid out on plates on the table much like it was yesterday, except the desserts were also there now. Curtis wondered who would have a dessert at breakfast, but then glanced over at Dumbledore who appeared to be eating chocolate cake now.

Curtis sat down by himself at the Ravenclaw table, and decided to have just some toast for breakfast. Once he was finished, there were a few more people in the hall, although not many. Professor McGonagall had joined Dumbledore at the front, and they appeared to be in deep conversation.

Curtis decided he wanted to confirm his suspicions. The Gryffindors looked to be red-headed, and that could surely only mean one thing. He approached them at the Gryffindor table, and indeed, he noticed that they were twins. He recalled the twins with the Weasleys at Kings Cross.

"We recognize you!" they said together. "You're the kid from the station, the one mum told us to look out for."

Curtis went slightly red. He'd rather have not known that their mum had said that.

"I'm Fred," said one twin.

"And he's George," said the other.

Curtis stood there for a second, processing what they had just said for a moment. "How's that meant to work?" he blurted out.

"Not as dumb as our brother looks then," said Fred, or was it George. "I'm Fred, he's George," Fred pointed to his twin. "But you'll get us mixed up, you don't need to take Divination to predict that."

"Well I'll just call you both Frorge then" Curtis said, semi-seriously.

"Fine with us," they said together.

At that point, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter entered the room and walked towards Fred and George. When they got there, Curtis spoke.

"You must be Ronald."

Fred snorted, and spoke to Harry.

"Ahh yes, and you must be Harrius."

All of them laughed.

"I assume you go by just Ron then," Curtis said.

"Yes," Ron said meekly.

"I'm Curtis Grant, but from what your brothers told me, your mum may have already informed you of that. And you," Curtis turned his gaze to Harry. "You're Harry Potter. I'm afraid to say I'm probably the only person here who doesn't know your story inside out. I only just about know your name."

"Well thank God," Harry said. "You're probably the only person here who doesn't know me better than I do."

"Really?"

"Really. I only found out I was famous about a month ago."

"Well maybe that's for the better," Curtis said, sizing Harry up. "You certainly seem to be modest for a famous person."

Harry gave Curtis an odd look.

"Anyway, I have to go back to my common room to get ready for my first lesson. See you all!"

And with that, Curtis left, continuing to wonder whether his heart should have been so set on getting into Ravenclaw.


	6. Professor Snape

Curtis greatly enjoyed his first week, as he knew he would. There was a lot of note-taking, and when it came to the practical stuff, everyone was struggling, but Curtis didn't mind, he was learning about magic at long last.

His favourite class was Transfiguration, which they had with the Gryffindors. Professor McGonagall gave a spectacular introduction to the subject, by turning her desk into a pig and then back. This was slightly higher than the level that the first years were working at though; their task was to change a match into a needle.

Curtis was thoroughly surprised as no one could do anything to their match except himself and Hermione. Curtis' match looked the same, until you flicked it and you realized that it was indeed wholly metal. There were silvery patches on it as well. Hermione's looked more like a needle, but felt much less like one. However, Curtis noticed that the best attempts at magic were offered by two muggle-borns, so obviously they had no serious disadvantage. Professor McGonagall awarded Curtis his first points for Ravenclaw, 10 of them, for his effort.

History of Magic, which they had with the Slytherins, was exceptionally boring, even for Curtis. The teacher, Professor Binns, who was a ghost, simply floated at the front babbling endlessly about magical history. Curtis didn't bother to listen or take notes, he felt that the book "The History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot would be a far more useful resource than this teacher.

The most interesting part of History of Magic for Curtis was the first register. He called out the name "Draco Malfoy", and Curtis had to turn around and look. He saw that this boy had a similar coloured hair to his father, and wore the same smirk that his father often wore. Curtis made a mental note to stay away from that boy.

Charms, from what the teacher, Professor Flitwick had said, seemed to be the subject where they were likely to learn what Curtis called "household magic", such as moving things around with the wand, and summoning objects to you. However, they hadn't yet done any magic in Flitwick's class, as he wanted to teach the class the basics in wandwork before moving on to doing actual magic. It was slightly boring, but Curtis persevered, feeling that it would definitely be worth it in the end.

Curtis had never liked learning about plants in biology at school, but magical plants were far more interesting, so he definitely enjoyed Herbology. It seemed like a very crucial subject, as Professor Sprout explained.

"Magical plants, the plants we will be studying in Herbology, are a vital part of magic which is crucial to all branches of magic. Plants naturally feature heavily in potions, but are also useful for defending yourself from the Dark Arts, and are often a simpler replacement for using charms. And of course, some of them are quite pretty, nice to decorate your house with, but only if you know how to handle them!"

They spent their first lesson making "dust of gnola herb", apparently an important potion ingredient, and if you sprinkle it on someone's head, it will relieve their stress for a couple of minutes.

"Future healers take note, the gnola herb will be a pivotal part of your job! See you next time!" she concluded dramatically.

Curtis was exhausted during his first astronomy lesson, as it was at midnight and he had woken up really early to read his first Daily Prophet (which he had now subscribed to). He'd subscribed to the "early bird" version, which somehow found its way to his bedside each morning, rather than waiting for the morning post in the Great Hall. It was a real interesting read, although some articles seemed to be unkind for the sake of being unkind.

But his effort in astronomy suffered as a result. Professor Sinistra seemed to be a reasonable teacher, she was instructing them to get used to looking at the sky through their telescope. Curtis fell asleep at least twice during the lesson, but it didn't seem to matter, everyone else was just as clueless as he.

Defence Against the Dark Arts sounded exciting. In that class, they might learn some spells that would be useful to use on enemies, Curtis thought. However, the teacher, Professor Quirell, who wore a purple turban, seemed to just be a blithering (and stuttering) idiot. He was immensely scared of the Dark Arts he was meant to be teaching them how to defend against, and as such he instead just stuttered out warnings like:

"N-n-never go near v-v-v-vampires class!"

Friday morning was double potions with the Hufflepuffs. Curtis was quite excited about potions, he had always enjoyed chemistry at his muggle school, and he thought of potions as a wizarding equivalent to that. Potions was in the dungeons, which were cold and dank. Curtis presumed it was the appropriate conditions for brewing good potions.

The Potions teacher was Professor Snape, a teacher with greasy hair down to his shoulders, and cold, black eyes. Curtis didn't particularly like the look of him, but was prepared to give the benefit of the doubt; he did not believe in judging people by appearances.

First, Snape gave a dramatic introduction to potions, claiming that they could be used for example, to "stopper death". After getting the students to write a few notes, he split them into pairs, and told them to brew a potion to cure boils, the recipe for which they could find in their books. Curtis thought that Professor Snape seemed fairly cold, quite strict and harsh, but nothing too bad compared to the rumours that he had heard from others on the way down to Potions.

Snape had paired Curtis with a Hufflepuff, Ernic Macmillan.

"This is just following simple instructions from a book," Ernie said, as they were midway through making the potion. "I don't know why Snape suggests that potions is difficult, how can you go wrong?"

Professor Snape suddenly marched towards Curtis and Ernie's table with purpose.

"If he heard you…" Curtis said to Ernie. He did not want to get on the wrong side of this teacher on day one.

Professor Snape got to their table, and examined what was in their cauldron.

"You," he said pointing at Ernie. "Name and house?"

"Er…Ernie Macmillan, Hufflepuff."

"A point off Hufflepuff, Macmillan. Your potion is not a pale enough green, you must have given it 5 stirs rather than 6."

Ernie stared at Professor Snape in shock. Curtis kept his eyes away from Snape and at the leaves he was chopping. He was thankful as Snape walked away without saying a word to him.

"Shall I give it another stir?" Ernie whispered in Curtis' ear.

"Just leave it I think…it's probably too late."

Suddenly, potions wasn't as easy as Ernie thought it was. The pair were silent for the rest of the lesson, Curtis was preparing the ingredients, Ernie was adding them, and heating and stirring the potion. Curtis was quite enjoying himself, but he was very wary of Professor Snape, who seemed to be full of hatred.

At the end of the lesson, he examined each potion by dropping "a freshly picked boil" into it. Curtis was a bit disturbed at where he had picked these boils from, but went along with it. When he dropped it into the pair's potion, it immediately disappeared. Curtis smiled, his first potion had been a success.

"Unsatisfactory," Snape said.

Curtis gave him a filthy look by accident. Professor Snape was getting to him badly.

Snape's lips curled. "If only you'd given it that extra stir."

Curtis's anger finally rose to the surface. "It gets rid of boils doesn't it?"

"That's beside the point. I would not use a boil removal potion of that shade of green. It shows inexperience."

"Well this is the first potion we've ever made."

"Precisely. Unsatisfactory," and Snape walked off to the next table, where he lost his temper as the potion exploded when the boil fell in.

Once they'd left the dungeon, Ernie immediately started talking.

"That Snape…I think he just insults people for the sake of it. What business does he have being a teacher?"

Curtis shrugged. "He knows a bit about potions."

"Oh don't give me that," Ernie said. "I saw your face when he commented on our potion."

"Well it did what it was made to do didn't it. I thought it was perfectly satisfactory, but then…" Curtis was tempted to blame Ernie for being too arrogant, and not reading the instructions properly, but thought better of it. Either way, he had never been talked to by a teacher like Professor Snape had talked to him, and he fully blamed Ernie for that.

On that evening, Curtis was feeling quite lonely in the Ravenclaw common room. He wanted someone to talk to about the week's lessons, but hadn't made any Ravenclaw friends to talk with. A plan suddenly struck him. He ran straight off to the library.

He loved the Hogwarts Castle. He had got lost for his first couple of lessons and was late, but spent a lot of time exploring in the week and now knew his way around well. He certainly knew his way to the library, he'd been there a few times to read a bit, although he hadn't yet plucked up the courage to take a book out, because the librarian, Madam Pince, seemed fairly strict.

When he got to the library, he noticed that his plan had worked immediately. There Hermione sat, face deep into a massive book.

"Oi, Hermione," Curtis whispered. He didn't want to attract the attention of Madam Pince.

Hermione looked up at Curtis. "What?" she whispered.

"Can we talk?" Curtis said, beckoning Hermione to leave the library.

"Ok," and she reluctantly closed her book and left the library.

The pair walked together and found a couple of chairs in the corridor near the library. They sat down.

"So, what do you want?" Hermione asked.

"I just need to talk to someone about…things…" Curtis replied feeling awkward.

Hermione gave him an all-knowing look. "I see you at the Ravenclaw table during mealtimes. You're not friends with any of them, are you?"

"Nah, Anthony Goldstein doesn't really like me you see, and I haven't really spoke to any of the others."

"Well don't worry, you can talk to me. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about some things."

The two had a long chat about that week's lessons. Both of them had had bad experiences with Snape.

"He just ignores me," Hermione said. "I try to answer his question and he just ignores me. And you should have seen the treatment he gave Harry. It was like he hated him, straight from the beginning. It wasn't fair."

Curtis was confused by this. There really was little to hate about Harry Potter, he was very quiet, and when he didn't speak was hardly offensive.

"What could Harry have done to offend Snape?"

"No, no, it's not even like that. Snape appeared to hate Harry before he even opened his mouth. I've heard of him not liking Gryffindors, but he was practically bullying Harry."

"…Do you know anything about Snape?"

"Not really…"

"Maybe you should go digging? There must be something to it." Curtis wanted revenge on Snape somehow, and he felt that finding out about his past would be a start.

"I'll look in the library this weekend," Hermione replied, with a hint of enthusiasm in her voice. It's getting late now, maybe we should get back to our common rooms."

Curtis hadn't asked his last question yet though. "Before we go…I've subscribed to the Daily Prophet."

"So have I," replied Hermione, as Curtis knew she would have.

"But...I've got spare money…I'd like some sort of publication that's a bit more light-hearted as well as that."

"I wouldn't recommend Witch Weekly," Hermione said, smirking.

Curtis laughed. "That sounds like the sort of thing my mother would read, actually maybe I should recommend it to her…that's beside the point though. I'd like something just a bit...well something fun to read.."

"Fun to read you say?" Hermione couldn't suppress a giggle. "I bought a magazine called The Quibbler the other week…I won't be buying it again. You can have my copy, and decide if you like it." Hermione continued trying to restrain more laughter. "I wouldn't trust what you read in it is all I'm saying."

"Well I would never trust something that was fun to read Hermione! That's a fool's mistake!"

And after goodbyes, they headed their separate ways. Curtis felt that Hermione needed the company as much as he did, they were both not popular with their fellow house-mates. He certainly looked forward to getting a copy of The Quibbler, he definitely needed a few laughs.


	7. The Quibbler

Hermione gave Curtis the Quibbler at dinner the next day. It looked completely brand new.

"Did you read this?" Curtis asked.

"Well I was about to, but then someone laughed at me, and said how terrible it was. I read one story. It was about one of the senior members of the Ministry of Magic." Curtis knew what the Ministry of Magic was from reading the Daily Prophet. "Apparently this 'Dolores Umbridge' is a known centaur murderer, but Fudge has been keeping it quiet to protect her. I mean, what utter nonsense."

While it sounded slightly farfetched to Curtis, he thought that Hermione's mind had probably been made by someone laughing at her. Curtis was going to give it much more of a chance, he thought. He quickly went up to the common room, excited to read this magazine. He knocked on the eagle knocker.

"Why did the phoenix cross the road?"

Curtis gawped at the knocker, it had never gave him anything as stupid as this before. He resisted his temptation to say "to get to the other side."

"That is simply impertinent," he decided to reply in the end.

"I quite agree," and the door opened.

Curtis sat on a chair, and pulled out his Quibbler. He thought he had spotted something quite interesting on the cover that Hermione obviously had overlooked. He looked at the cover.

_Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived?_

Curtis still didn't know Harry Potter's story really, but he had read a bit about him in the Prophet. He was referred to as The Boy Who Lived, because he survived a killing curse by 'You-Know-Who' when he was a baby, and in fact defeated this 'You-Know-Who' in the process. He knew nothing else. Maybe this article would tell him more.

_Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, or The Boy Who Was Knived?_

"What?" Curtis thought out loud to himself, the common room was empty as everyone was having dinner. Besides the fact that lived that the headline wasn't catchy at all, as lived and knived do not rhyme with each other, it seemed strange. When was this boy knived? Curtis read the article.

_Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is famous for his defeat of You-Know-Who as a baby, and has fascinated many leading wizards around the world for the reasons as to why it happened. He represents an icon, a hero, to modern wizards and seemingly thoroughly deserves to._

_BUT DOES HE?_

_Startling new evidence suggests otherwise. The lightning scar on his forehead that Harry Potter is so famous for can be explained in another way as well. A source close to Severus Snape, who in turn was a close friend to Harry's father, suggested that Severus Snape (who currently teaches Potions at Hogwarts) has other ideas._

_"Yes, Severus and James Potter were best friends, right until the latter's death," our source, who wished to remain anonymous, revealed. "And Severus told me that he was present when the lightning scar was made. James Potter just got a little bit angry and savaged his baby son whilst doing so. Potter instantly realized that he would be imprisoned for his crimes, and had to act and act fast."_

_"Potter found You-Know-Who, and killed him. Then he moved the corpse and positioned the scene to make it appear that Harry Potter had defeated You-Know-Who. It all went well, until Sirius Black arrived at the scene, and killed both James and Lily Potter, and thus went on to create the legend that we all know today, the legend of Harry Potter."_

_This convincing evidence will leave many people who have seen Harry Potter as an icon in doubt. Rather than look up to Harry, it is more likely that people will pity Harry for the kniving attack which created the legendary scar._

Curtis couldn't quite believe what he had just read. If he thought he would understand Harry Potter's story more after reading it, he was completely wrong. He understood it far less now. He wondered if it was the truth that Professor Snape was the best friend of Harry's father. He didn't really trust anything The Quibbler said at this point, but he did at least wonder whether it was telling the truth on this occasion. Either way, he knew one thing. He wanted to read more, just for a few more laughs. As he read more articles, he soon realized that the Harry Potter article was fairly believable when compared to the rest of the magazine.

"Are you reading the Quibbler?" someone said. The room was just starting to fill up with Ravenclaws now. Curtis looked up, and saw that it was Terry Boot, a first-year boy like Curtis, who had asked the question.

"…Yes," Curtis replied coldly.

"My mum told me that the Quibbler was best used as if you were running out of wood for your fireplace. You seriously read it?"

"Well I seriously read it but I don't read it seriously," Curtis said, in an attempt to just confuse Terry.

After about 30 seconds of silence Terry suddenly said "Oh!", by which time Curtis had buried his head back behind the Quibbler, not wishing to speak to Terry anymore. However, he couldn't go for long now without being made fun of for reading the Quibbler. He just ignored everyone, but he couldn't help but feel that he was becoming more and more of an outcast in the Ravenclaw common room by the day. He went to bed early that evening to get away from everyone, but much to his chagrin, Terry Boot was up there as well.

"I can't believe you read the Quibbler," he said.

"I'm muggle-born, I didn't know how much of a joke it was." Curtis replied. He was fed up of being made fun of for reading the Quibbler and decided to try and pretend that he got no enjoyment out of it.

"But you read it for ages."

Curtis had no answer to this. He felt like getting his wand out and sending a hex at Terry, but due to the incompetence of Professor Quirrell, he knew not one such spell yet. He needed to take his anger out somehow though. He walked across to the bed in which Terry Boot lay in, and was about to whack the boy as hard as he could with the Quibbler…but a new idea took over him.

He pulled a little bit of dust of gnola herb that he had taken from Herbology out of pocket, and sprinkled it on his own head. Suddenly, all his muscles relaxed, and the hatred he was feeling towards Terry two seconds before was gone. He walked over and into his bed.

"You're barking," Terry said.

"Maybe I am. Night night." Curtis said in a maddeningly calm voice, and he fell asleep before the effects of the gnola herb had wore off, thankfully.

**AN: This chapter may seem short and unnecessary, and while you'd be right that it's short, it is, however, quite necessary.**


	8. Professor Snape  Again!

Curtis ignored the other Ravenclaw students. He found the Quibbler funny, and so subscribed to it the following morning before breakfast. He knew it would be another month before the next one though, so in between he'd have to make do with the Daily Prophet. Curtis was getting increasingly more annoyed with the Daily Prophet, there were too many articles seeking to do nothing but defame people, but still liked feeling a bit in touch with the wizarding world.

At breakfast, he sat at the Gryffindor table and talked to Hermione.

"Did you read that article in the Quibbler about Harry Potter?" Curtis asked her.

"No. I only read one article. What did you think of the Quibbler?"

"Well it's a laugh ain't it." Curtis responded.

"…If you say so…"

"Well anyway, the article about Harry Potter. It said that Snape was best friends with Harry's father, James Potter."

Hermione gave Curtis a pitiful stare. "Oh Curtis, you're not believing anything the Quibbler says are you?"

"No, but it's more than what you've found out about Snape I'd imagine."

Hermione flushed red for a second. "I checked all the books in library I could! But I found nothing relevant about Snape."

"What sort of books did you check?"

"Oh, just potions books, about notable potioneers. Most of the books are too old to include Snape anyway. There were a couple that included him, apparently he is fairly creative, able to improve recipes that have been thought to have been perfect for thousands of years."

"But this isn't really the sort of information we want, is it? Is there anything about his life other than potioneering?" Curtis implored.

Hermione shook her head.

Curtis looked to the ceiling, deep in thought. He really felt there was something to this Professor Snape, more than what there might first appear.

"Ask older students about him. I will do the same. See you later."

Curtis left Hermione and went back to Ravenclaw tower. He managed to get there without tripping over a single trick step, which he thought was a miracle.

"Why is it a great achievement to be in the house of Rowena Ravenclaw?" the eagle asked.

"Oh stop inflating my head! Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!" Curtis replied. He really enjoyed answering the eagle's questions every time he went to the common room.

"Oo, you remembered the quote. Well done. I've got a pin to deflate your head if necessary."

The door opened, and Curtis noticed all of the other first-years crowding around a notice on the Ravenclaw notice board, all muttering to each other about something. Curtis spoke to Padma Patil, who he was at least not on unfriendly terms with yet.

"What's all this about?" he asked her.

"Flying lessons this week. Friday afternoon," she responded.

"Flying lessons? What, are we meant to be able to flap our wings and soar off into the sky or something?"

Padma gave Curtis a very strange look, unsure of whether he was joking or not. "Broomsticks."

Curtis gawped for just a second. "Broomsticks?" The muggle image of green-skinned witches flying around on broomsticks with a cackling laugh popped into his mind, but he immediately removed it.

"Do wizards use brooms to travel?" Curtis asked Padma inquisitively.

"Well, sometimes. More often apparition though. Quicker. Broomsticks are used more for Quidditch really."

And she left, presumably to avoid Curtis asking her what Quidditch was. However, he wouldn't have, Curtis had figured out what Quidditch was from the Daily Prophet, it featured in the sports pages. He hadn't really gave it much time, he didn't understand it. However, looking at the sports pages of his Daily Prophet he received today, he realized that Quidditch was in fact a sport played on broomsticks, something he hadn't noticed at first glance. This didn't particularly make him excited about flying lessons, he had always been terrible at muggle sports and expected the same to be true for wizarding sports. However, he thought he might learn the rules of Quidditch so as to give him something to replace football as his sports interest.

Just after Padma leaving, Penelope Clearwater entered the common room, presumably back from breakfast. Curtis remembered what Hermione and him had agreed on before these flying lessons had clouded his mind.

"Penelope," he called to her as she took her usual seat on a Ravenclaw chair.

Penelope looked at Curtis, smiling. "You want to ask about flying lessons don't you," she said, in an all-knowing manner.

Curtis didn't particularly want to knock her off her pedestal, but he also didn't want to to talk about flying, so he picked his poison.

"No actually, I'm not too worried about that," Curtis said. Penelope frowned, clearly curious as to what Curtis might want then. He continued, "On Friday, I had my first Potions lesson with Professor Snape. He was…most curious." Curtis decided he did not want to explain everything that happened. "He seemed to be…I dunno…maybe a bit full of hatred. I was just wondering if you knew anything about him really."

Penelope looked at him oddly. Curtis had realised when he was saying it how strange a request it was. It had sounded all right in his head, but when actually asking it, it just seemed downright nosy.

"I'm a prefect," Penelope started. "I don't like to speak ill of any teachers, nor do I like to discuss the personal lives of any teacher in explicit detail to a first year. You understand, right?"

Curtis nodded…he wasn't going to get anything out of her.

"But what I will tell you…" She seemed to be mulling over what to tell Curtis. "Professor Snape has been known to have dabbled in the Dark Arts in his life. This is no secret, the wizarding world is aware of it. However, Dumbledore has given Snape a vote of confidence that he has changed his ways. It's only Dumbledore's trust that keeps Snape out of Azkaban, to be honest. But if Dumbledore trusts him, then I think we all should, don't you agree?"

Curtis was shocked, but decided he had to pretend not to be. "Yes, of course I agree. I trust Dumbledore."

"Of course, Snape shows a certain favouritism towards Slytherins. That's probably just because he's Head of Slytherin house. There isn't anything too sinister about that I suppose," she added.

"…thank you Penelope. See you later."

And Curtis went upstairs into the dormitories to try and mull over this new information in peace and quiet. Snape, 'dabbling in the Dark Arts'? He wasn't too sure what that meant, but it certainly sounded bad for a school teacher to be doing. He got the feeling that Penelope had been purposely vague with him, as she stated that Snape would be straight in Azkaban were it not for Dumbledore trusting him. Snape must have done something pretty severe.

Still, this did not account for why Snape had such hatred of Harry Potter in particular. Then again, he thought, maybe that was all in Hermione's mind. He probably hates Harry just as much as he hates the rest of us.


	9. A Difficult Day

The week rushed through quickly. The lessons were starting to get more practical now; Curtis was able to transfigure a match into a needle with significant ease, Professor Flitwick suggested that there might only be two or three more lessons of "wandwork", and Professor Quirrell actually used a spell, the first sign that he could actually do magic, even if that spell was just a summoning charm (of no relevance to the lesson).

Curtis had not yet told Hermione what Penelope had said about Snape. It was so vague that Curtis wasn't sure whether it was worth it. However, on Friday morning at breakfast, Hermione walked over to the Ravenclaw table and asked about it.

"Have you asked anyone about Professor Snape's past?"

"Yes, I have actually. I wasn't told anything clear, but apparently Snape has 'dabbled in the Dark Arts' before."

"Dabbled in the Dark Arts? No, that's wrong, or Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have him here as a teacher."

Professor Snape entered the Great Hall at this moment, walked to the teacher's table, and sat down. He stared at the Ravenclaw table as Curtis and Hermione were talking, seriously putting them off. He was certainly not eating anything.

Curtis nevertheless tried to continue. "Apparently, it's Professor Dumbledore's trust that keeps Snape out of Azkaban. Professor Dumbledore knows about his…dabbling…but obviously feels that Snape has redeemed himself somehow."

Hermione was sitting there thoughtfully (although continually glancing back at Snape to ensure he wasn't listening in). After a while, she spoke.

"I won't believe it of a Hogwarts teacher. I don't believe whoever told you that."

Curtis sighed. He knew that Penelope wasn't the sort of person to make this stuff up, but did not have the energy to argue with her. His energy was being sucked up by how much he was nervous about the day. Double potions in the morning and flying in the afternoon.

"Why don't you just check the library? Court records, recent dark witches and wizards, that sort of thing…"

Hermione suddenly sat up straighter. "Great idea, I'll go straight to the library after Potions this afternoon!"

And she walked off, leaving Curtis to eat his breakfast (he'd succumbed to eating chocolate cake for breakfast today) in peace. He had a quick look at the front and saw Professor Snape exchanging words with Quirrell, who had just entered the room. Quirrell was wriggling about nervously on his chair, straightening his turban, and probably, Curtis assumed, stuttering a lot. Was Professor Quirrell scared of Professor Snape because of Snape's past? It seemed likely to Curtis.

Suddenly, a rush of owls flew into the Great Hall. Curtis was used to this, it was the Owl Post. But today, in that flurry of owls, Curtis spotted something different to usual. He spotted Arthur, his own owl, flying in towards him. He dropped a letter in front of Curtis and then sat there patiently.

"I hope you like chocolate cake," Curtis said to him. "Because that's all you're getting." He fed his owl a tiny bit of chocolate cake, but apparently, that was enough, as he flew off.

Curtis looked at his letter. The name and address was written in his mum's handwriting. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worrying about his parents, he was expecting letters everyday but this was his first and he'd been at Hogwarts for almost two weeks. He opened and read it.

_Hello dear. I hope you haven't been worried about your father and I, you might have expected us to write sooner. We just thought you'd like to settle in and make friends without getting letters everyday, that's all._

_What started off as just having a cup of tea at Molly and Arthur's became a week staying there. I'm not sure how it happened, but we had a great time anyway. It was also comforting for your father and I to see magic first hand; it's not as scary as we first thought._

_But enough about us, how have you been getting on? Have you enjoyed your lessons? Have you enjoyed yourself in general? Have you managed to make some good friends yet? Oh, and what house have you been sorted into? Oh yes, we know about houses from Molly and Arthur._

_Please reply soon, love from mum._

Underneath this letter was a bit of writing in his dad's handwriting.

_Hello Curtis. Not much to add onto what your mum says, just hope you're alright and enjoying yourself. I know you will be. Your mother and I bet on what house you'd be in. I said Gryffindor. She said Ravenclaw. Tell us who's right! Tell me about Professor Dumbledore as well, he sounds like an incredible man!_

_Speak soon, Dad._

Curtis laughed. It was typical of his mum to correctly guess something like his house at Hogwarts, he had always got the impression that his mum understood his deeper self more than his dad did. Curtis was pleased that his parents weren't so worried about him now, and he planned to write a reply to their letter later, after his Flying lesson. He thought he might recommend that they subscribe to the Daily Prophet as well, it was not uncommon for it to report on things happening at Hogwarts.

Potions was horrible again. Curtis really enjoyed the subject: the brewing and the theory. However, Professor Snape seemed determined to bully him today. Curtis wondered whether Snape had heard any of his conversation with Hermione.

Everyone had brewed potions individually today (Curtis was quite glad not to work with Ernie, who was far too pompous and loud for his liking). They were tasked with making a Babbling Brew, which Snape had explained at the beginning of the lesson as the 'prehistoric version of a Babbling Beverage, nowhere near as effective'.

Snape was inspecting the potions at the end by making everyone try their own, and seeing what effect it had. It seemed no one's potion did anything much, much to Snape's pleasure. Ernie did call Professor Snape by the name 'Mr Winkleton' after trying his, suggesting at least some effect, although Snape was not prepared to admit it. Snape finally got around to Curtis, who he seemed to have been saving until last.

"Grant! Drink."

Curtis drank the potion. A strange feeling overtook his lips; he was not quite in control of their movements.

"I'm sorry about your horse, Jim," slipped out of his mouth.

"I will not be spoken to like that!" Professor Snape whispered, trying to withhold a smirk from his face. "You will not call me 'Jim' in the future, you will refer to me as 'sir' or 'Professor'. 5 points from Ravenclaw."

This was Curtis' first loss of points, and he did not take it well.

"Sir. Give those points back!" There was a giggle around the class, Curtis had not meant to say it quite like that, but his Babbling Brew was still effecting him slightly. He tried hard to compose himself. "I didn't mean to call you Jim, sir. It's just the Babbling Brew."

Snape simply ignored Curtis' plea. "Taking a, no doubt, weak, Babbling Brew, is no excuse to say whatever you like to teachers Grant. Now, let's see…yes, I think you can have a detention here at 7 in the evening tomorrow, for trying to order me to give points back to Ravenclaw. I'm the teacher Grant, I will not be ordered around. I order you around. Class dismissed."

Curtis could not believe it. At his muggle school, he had never been reprimanded by a teacher for anything, and suddenly he was losing housepoints and getting detentions here at Hogwarts. Now even more than before, he wondered about Snape's history. Hopefully Hermione could find something really bad that Snape had done, and see to it that he does get put in Azkaban, because right now, Curtis felt that's where Snape belonged.

Curtis skipped lunch, he wasn't hungry after receiving that detention, and the prospect of a flying lesson was scaring him. Apparently it was being taken by a teacher called Madam Hooch, someone very passionate about Flying and Quidditch, but not someone very forgiving to those less talented.

About an hour after everyone had come back from lunch, it was time to go to the grounds, where the lesson would be held. Just before they all went though, Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw house, entered the common room with a short, dark-haired girl, Cho Chang (Curtis had become acquainted with Cho during his first few days at Hogwarts). Cho Chang quickly scuttled off to her friends, not enjoying the gaze the first-years were giving her.

"Thank you!" Professor Flitwick called out. "Ahh yes, sorry for being so last minute, I don't want to make you late. The door caught me on a bad day, asking me why Transfiguration is more taxing than Charms."

Curtis was certain he saw Flitwick mutter "Stupid, lying bird" under his breath, but ignored it.

"Yes, lucky Miss Chang was there to help me out with that…anyway! I just wanted to wish you first-years luck with Flying. Professor Snape, the lovely man that he is, was reminding me about how…ahem…well Ravenclaw have done in recent years at the Quidditch Cup…I won't lie, there's room for improvement. However, you are the future of our chances, and therefore I expect you to try as hard in your flying lessons as you possibly can so that next year, when you are eligible for the Quidditch team, we will have a wealth of new talent ready to join the team.

Of course, as you may well know, Harry Potter has been selected for the Gryffindor Quidditch team despite being a first-year. However, I'm afraid that you cannot expect similar treatment, as Potter joining the team was an emergency measure, as Gryffindor did not have a seeker. The one thing we can say for Ravenclaw is that we do at least have a team together."

Flitwick looked across at a couple of the older students and said "I hope you're not planning on letting us down this year as you did last year."

The group of people ignored Professor Flitwick, unaware he was talking to them. He turned back towards the first-years.

"Off you go then, mustn't be late!"

And Flitwick left the room quickly. All the first-years followed suit.

When they got outside to their Flying lesson, the Hufflepuffs and a teacher who Curtis assumed was Madam Hooch, were waiting. Madam Hooch was tapping her foot impatiently, looking at her watch just as they arrived.

"You're all late. Explain yourselves," she said.

It was Padma Patil who spoke up. "Professor Flitwick wanted to talk to us before we left."

Curtis thought that Hooch wouldn't be satisfied with that excuse, but to his surprise, she just sighed. "That man. Every year Ravenclaw are late for their first lesson because of him."

There were a few giggles from the Ravenclaws.

"Now what are you waiting for!" Hooch shouted suddenly. "Stand by a broom."

She pointed at a row of brooms that were standing next to all the Hufflepuffs, who were also standing by brooms. Everyone went to stand by their broom, some quickly, excitedly, others nervously, like Curtis.

"Now, put you right arm out over your broom, and everybody shout up!"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

It was a disaster. Curtis' broom hadn't even moved an inch. Others did move, but none went into anyone's hand, as Curtis presumed was the idea. Madam Hooch gave a disappointed look at everyone, as others continued to try and fail. Curtis had given up after one go, he didn't suppose he was ever going to be able to say up any better than he had before.

He quickly said to Padma, who was standing next to him, "I suppose wizards are simply too good to use our knees and hands to pick up the broom then."

Padma, who had also given up on saying up, laughed and said, "Well that's what we'll all be doing in a minute. Madam Hooch doesn't look like she can take much more of this."

And true to Padma's word, at that instant Madam Hooch spoke. "That'll do! Now to those who have failed to get their broom into their hands using Up, please pick up the broom and attempt to mount it."

Everyone had to have a quick glance around, expecting there to be someone who had managed to get the broom in their hands, but found there was no one. Lots of people giggled; Madam Hooch had suggested that there was at least someone who had succeeded in picking up their broom

Everyone now picked up their broom in a muggle-like way, and attempted to mount it. Madam Hooch went around everyone, correcting their grip.

"Now it's time to fly. Kick off the ground, hover a few feet high, and then come back down. Wait for the whistle!" she added, looking at a couple of Hufflepuffs who were just go. "A foolish boy yesterday decided not to and ended up injuring himself. Do not follow his lead."

She blew her whistle, and everyone tried to thrust themselves into the air. This was met with more success than picking up the broom, many people managed to get into the air, including Curtis. However, he was unable to hover as he'd lost the balance of the broom, and did well not to fall off. But people had managed to perform the task Madam Hooch had set them perfectly, and she seemed much more satisfied after this task.

They did this several more times, and then Madam Hooch challenged some of the better fliers to fly through some floating hoops, about 10 feet high. Curtis was not one of these people, but he had managed to hover successfully in the air before the end of the lesson, and was quite pleased with himself. It was not as bad as what he had thought.

In the evening, Curtis replied to the owl he had received from his parents, telling them how much he was enjoying the lessons, that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and that he loved Hogwarts. He decided to not mention friends in the letter, as he didn't want his mum to worry about his lack of friends. He also told his dad of Dumbledore's "announcement" at the sorting feast. "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" He knew that his dad would chuckle at that.

As he sent his letter, Curtis considered the friendships that he had made so far at Hogwarts. He hadn't really made any friends in Ravenclaw, and was merely acquaintances with the Weasley family. He did have a friend in Hermione, at least sort of, although he hadn't really completed warmed to her. She seemed like a bit of a know-it-all. But at least she was a friend who he could talk about things with. He had nobody else.


	10. Parentage

It didn't take long for Curtis to realise that Hermione did not value their friendship at all. Curtis wanted to speak to her at the weekend about Snape's detention which he was really nervous about, but could not find her anywhere, not even in the library. Snape's detention was not too horrible. He just had Curtis clean his personal potion set without magic. Curtis still felt that he had been unjustly punished, but cleaned through it.

The following week, he also did not see Hermione out of lessons anywhere; he got the distinct impression that she was avoiding him. He had looked for her in the library a ridiculous number of times, and how could Hermione spend so much time outside of the library unless she was trying to avoid him.

The week after that, he decided his only choice was to try and talk to her during Transfiguration. They were trying to transfigure a short sheet of parchment into a longer sheet of parchment.

"Of course," Professor McGonagall spoke to the class as they were attempting this transfiguration, "you can achieve this effect using ways other than Transfiguration, as I'm sure Professor Flitwick will teach you. However, using transfiguration to alter the size of objects makes it easier to lengthen the lengths that you want to lengthen, and hence create the shapes you wish to create."

Curtis had successfully completed this transfiguration on his first attempt, as Hermione. He had got the hang of basic transfiguration such as this. He walked over to Hermione's table, despite her giving him a reproachful look.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. "Haven't spoke to you in a while."

"Yes, yes, quite fine," she said, her eyes not meeting Curtis' at all. "Look, I think you need to go back to your seat."

"Why? We've both finished."

"That's hardly the point!"

An older, stricter voice entered the conversation. "Yes, you're quite right, it hardly is the point. Get back to your seat Grant!" Professor McGonagall commanded.

Curtis opened his mouth to reply, but changed his mind. He deeply respected Professor McGonagall, and didn't want to get on the wrong side of her. He started walking back to his seat.

"Oh," Professor McGonagall called. Curtis turned around and saw that she was smiling. "And 10 points to Ravenclaw for your prompt completion of the task Grant. Well done." McGonagall then walked off to help Harry Potter with his transfiguration.

Hermione looked like she had been slapped in the face. She had been overlooked my her own Head of House. She had finished the transfiguration just as quickly as Curtis. Curtis felt she deserved it though, for her behaviour. She was clearly avoiding Curtis, and was not telling him why.

That weekend, Curtis was innocently walking the corridors, when suddenly someone bumped into him, knocking him a mile sideways. It turned out it had been Neville Longbottom, who had just walked into Curtis. Curtis hadn't spoken to Neville since they were on the Hogwarts Express, and was desperate to talk to someone, so decided Neville would do. After asking how he was getting on, and talking a bit about various lessons, Curtis decided to see if Neville could help answer the question that was most on his mind.

"You know Hermione Granger?" he asked.

"Yes," Neville responded.

"Well…she's been avoiding me lately, and I was wondering if you knew why…I thought you might know because you're in her house."

"She's not just been avoiding you. She's been speaking to no one. She's certainly not speaking to Harry and Ron, but she's also not really talking to anyone else either."

"…Interesting…" Curtis said. In a selfish way, he was pleased by this fact. It meant that at least it was nothing personal. "Well do you know why she's not talking to anybody?"

"Not really." Neville said. "But it's since the night we went out and went into the forbidden corridor."

"You went out at the night and into the forbidden corridor! And Hermione did? What? Why?" Curtis was incredibly shocked by this revelation.

"Well…long story. Hermione was not happy with Harry and Ron about it basically," Neville said weakly. Curtis thought that Neville probably didn't understand what he was talking about, but at least it was a lead.

"Just one more thing," Curtis said. "What was inside the forbidden corridor? Dumbledore said that you would die if you went in there, but yet, here you stand."

"A huge, three-headed dog," Neville shivered, obviously still shaken up by seeing this dog.

"What?"

Curtis was really surprised now. Why would there be a huge three-headed dog lying around in the school. Maybe, he considered, it had managed to get into the building and the teachers had been unable to remove it, and so just locked it up instead. However, Neville came up with a much more satisfactory answer.

"Well, Hermione said that it was on top of a trap door."

Curtis took a while to process this information, but once he had, it made much more sense. So the dog was there to guard something. But what…Curtis' curiosity had really been piqued. Curtis and Neville went their separate ways, and Curtis was definitely pleased to have had the conversation with Neville. It had revealed quite a few things to him. Curtis decided to give up on approaching Hermione for now, she obviously needed a bit of space for some reason.

Time had started to accelerate now; it was the middle of October before Curtis knew it. He had received the latest edition of the Quibbler and had dissected his way through it. This edition had a lot of news about the existence of "crumple-horned snorkacks". Curtis was hardly convinced by it that these things existed though. The magazine's idea of evidence was flimsy, he felt. For example, apparently a few dead birds in a supposed "crumple-horned snorkack hotspot" supposedly meant that these things existed. Rather circular reasoning, Curtis felt. However, he still enjoyed the magazine immensely. He enjoyed reading conspiracy theories in the muggle world, for the fun of it, and this was very similar.

Whilst Curtis was really enjoying doing magic, reading the Quibbler, among other things that you couldn't do in the non-magical world, it was not all good for Curtis at Hogwarts, as he found out on a Saturday morning. He was walking out of the Great Hall having had breakfast when he walked past some Slytherins. Curtis had managed to avoid contact with all Slytherins thus far, much to his delight, but the center member of the trio decided to call to Curtis as they were walking past.

"Oi!" he said.

Curtis stopped, and turned towards the trio of Slytherins. He recognized them all from his classes. The central one was Draco Malfoy, and the other two were Crabbe and Goyle, two of the stupidest boys he knew. Curtis knew that now he had stopped, he'd finally have to talk to this Malfoy boy, who he had been avoiding since he first saw him.

"You're that Curtis my father talked about," Malfoy said, disgust showing on his face.

"Did it take you a month and a half to figure that out?" Curtis responded sarcastically. Although he was a shy boy, he found it much easier to speak to strangers if he was spoken to first, as he was here. "I had you figured out from day 1," he continued.

"Had me figured out?" Malfoy said aggressively. "What did you figure out about me?"

"That you were the son of that scum, Lucius Malfoy."

Draco looked like he had been slapped in the face. He was just about to punch Curtis when he changed his mind.

"How dare you say that about my father. You don't even deserve to stand within 6 feet of him." Malfoy snarled.

Curtis could see where this was going, but really didn't care either. He did care however, that about 15 people had gathered after Curtis called Lucius Malfoy scum. They were clearly all on Curtis' side of the argument, and he didn't really want to let them down.

"Trust me Malfoy, I have no intention of fighting for my right to stand within 6 feet of your father."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT MY FATHER!"

Draco had silenced everyone by shouting so loud. There was now about 30 people watching. Malfoy had a peer around them. Curtis thought that he was probably checking to see if there were teachers in the crowd. He stopped looking after a bit and then continued.

"Get lost, mudblood."

There was a collective gasp among the spectators, who started muttering, as Malfoy turned around to walk away. However, to everyone's shock, Curtis was smiling. He wasn't about to let Malfoy get away, not like that. He raised his voice slightly.

"Is that the best you've got Malfoy? As if you can talk about parentage, when you're the son of the biggest scumbag that I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Of course, I can see you're trying to compete with him for that prize. I suppose you edge him out for the biggest loser I've ever met…"

Malfoy finally snapped, and charged at Curtis. Curtis pulled his wand out of his robes and held it in a threatening manner, stopping Malfoy straight in his tracks. Malfoy clearly felt threatened by Curtis, despite the fact that Curtis knew no spells that would have stopped Malfoy from beating up every last bone of his body if he wanted to. It was just a bluff, but it had paid off.

Malfoy turned around, pulled Crabbe and Goyle with him, and left silently. The students watching then followed suit, muttering, leaving Curtis alone. He assumed that would be the last he heard from it, but that was far from the case. Although Curtis didn't think it was a big deal, apparently the rest of the school did, as there was not one person in school by the end of the day who didn't know that the pair had had a confrontation.

"Where have you been?" Michael Corner, a fellow first-year Ravenclaw, asked Curtis that evening in the common room. "You never speak in the dormitory at night, but suddenly you call Malfoy's dad a scumbag to Malfoy in front of half the school?"

Curtis laughed, half the school was a big exaggeration, but then, most of the story had exaggerated into something much more exciting than it was throughout the day. Fred and George Weasley had approached him at dinner time and congratulated him on using the jelly-legs spell on Malfoy, something which Curtis had never even heard of. Curtis assured them and anyone else he talked to about it that evening that it really wasn't very exciting, just a little banter, but no one was interested. They were all surprised that someone who rarely spoke was suddenly arguing with Malfoy, even when being called a mudblood.

Penelope Clearwater approached him after he had spoke to Malfoy.

"I informed Professor Snape of the offensive term that Malfoy used towards you today."

Curtis wondered why she chose to tell Professor Snape of all people, head of Slytherin house, and someone who was notorious for actively favouring pupils in his house.

Penelope seemingly read his mind, and added, "As prefect, the proper channel to go through with these things is telling the person's head of house. Actually, Snape reacted quite surprisingly to it. When I have reported to him about a member of the Slytherin house earlier this year, he took 5 points off of Ravenclaw, accusing me of making things up." Penelope had a flash of hatred on her face, but it had gone as quickly as it had came.

"But this time, when I told him of what Malfoy had done, it was different. He jumped straight to his feet the second I told him…then he left his office briskly, informing me that he would make sure that Malfoy did not do it again. No housepoint deductions for Slytherin though, I don't think. Actually, I don't think he has ever taken points off of Slytherin."

Curtis was a bit annoyed at Penelope for running straight to the teachers. Although the idea of Malfoy receiving some sort of punishment was good, he did not want Malfoy to think that he had got to him, because he had not.

As Curtis had expected, within days, the school had forgotten about Curtis and Malfoy's confrontation. However, people considered Curtis to be much more approachable than they did before. He actually got involved in conversations with Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein in the dormitories, a huge step forward. However, one person who was still yet to approach him was Hermione Granger. It had been a month now since they last talked, but apparently she still didn't want to talk to him (or anyone – Curtis had noticed she was talking to nobody at the Gryffindor table during meal times and she wasn't talking during lessons). Curtis wondered whether this would ever change.

**AN: Was prompted into uploading this by a review. Just more proof that reviews (and favouriting) motivate authors. Of course, I've had this chapter sitting around for a number of months now, but that's because I have a rule to always keep 3 or 4 spare chapters to upload for when I feel like it. However, I am now writing again, having just had a busy time I've come into a far less busy period of my life. Also, just a quick thank you to everyone who has read this! Just by reading this, you're making me happy!**


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